I'm living in a duplex in a relatively sketchy part of town. I come out of the duplex one day to find out that my car has been stolen. Or, more accurately, it has been switched with another crappier car. In my dream, I remember that my car has already been stolen once (which is true).
I call the police, and they point me in the direction of some people that live down the street. Outside of that, there's nothing that they can do.
So I know that these people down the street might have stolen my car, and I'm a bit afraid of them. I get more afraid when I find out that someone has broken into my duplex. I call the police again, and they're even less helpful this time. I now assume that these people down the street are out to get me, but I can't do anything about it.
Eventually, I'm sitting in my duplex, and I know these people are right outside. They open the door, and I'm nervously in the corner. They come in smiling and tell me that they're not the ones who stole my car. In fact, they've come over to help me get my car back.
And it's actually not my new car that they're going to help get back. It's my old car - the one stolen in real life. Apparently, the car was stolen by a Haitian voodoo guy who lives in the neighborhood.
We go to his big mansion-like house at night as a bunch of people in a zombie-like trance are walking in. He has guards grabbing people who aren't in a zombie state, and so we have to pretend to be in a trance to get in. We get in, and I'm seated directly next to the Haitian boss. Some sort of raw fish is served, and I have to eat it as if I'm still in a trance.
Whatever the plan is works, and my new friends do something that makes everyone run away from the house in fear. I meet back up with them, and they throw me a gun.
I fire three shots at something and I miss every time.
And that's when I woke up.
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